


Strange Charm

by Kantayra



Series: Flavors of Quarks [2]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-03
Updated: 2009-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Quarks are never found in isolation and consist of three, opposing pairs of flavors and...</i> Oh, who am I kidding? There is nothing deep about this. It is PORN! The end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Charm

“Atobe.” Tezuka tried not to make the name into a weary sigh, but sometimes there was simply no other response to Atobe’s theatrics.

Atobe lay face-down on a pool chair beside the Atobe family pool, sunning himself in the summer heat. As Tezuka watched, Kabaji squeezed some suntan lotion from a bottle onto the small of Atobe’s back and began rubbing it in, turning the skin slick and wet.

“Ah, Tezuka,” Atobe drawled lazily, not even bothering to look up. “So glad you could make it.”

“I didn’t have much choice in the matter,” Tezuka pointed out, brushing off his shoulder pointedly where Atobe’s limo driver had very persistently ‘invited’ Tezuka to come with him.

“Sit down.” Atobe waved his wrist vaguely in the direction of the other pool chairs. “Relax. Have something to drink.”

“No, tha—” Tezuka began, but Atobe cut him off.

“Kabaji, go get Tezuka something to drink.” He snapped his fingers.

“Yes,” Kabaji agreed and headed dutifully for the house.

“Of course,” Atobe said thoughtfully to himself, “that leaves no one to finish applying my sunscreen. Tezuka, would you…?”

“No.” Tezuka crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

Atobe turned his head to face Tezuka for the first time. He lowered his giant movie-star sunglasses and looked Tezuka squarely in the eyes over the top of the frames. “I burn horribly.”

“I don’t care.”

“You would let something like sunburn happen to my beautiful body? It would be a crime against nature.”

Tezuka rolled his eyes.

“Come now,” Atobe teased, “don’t be shy. Unless, of course, you’re _trying_ to sabotage the competition for Nationals…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I definitely wouldn’t be in top shape if I were sunburned…” Atobe continued with his absurd accusation.

“And I probably won’t be in top shape due to my shoulder,” Tezuka retorted.

Atobe smiled up at him lazily. “There’s that passion you showed me at Regionals. I wondered where you were hiding it.”

Tezuka looked pointedly away.

“Come on,” Atobe pressed. “At least do my back. I can’t reach there properly.”

Tezuka gave him a suspicious look. Atobe smiled back at him smugly. Finally, Tezuka sighed and reached for the sunscreen. “What did you want to talk to me about?” he demanded, squirting a line of thick, white lotion onto Atobe’s back.

“Nothing,” Atobe said breezily as Tezuka’s fingers tentatively spread the sunscreen along his spine. “I just wanted your hands on my body.”

Tezuka froze, his hands sticky and hot against Atobe’s skin. “Atobe…” he warned.

“Yes, yes, I’m kidding,” Atobe conceded. “Don’t stop.”

Tezuka exhaled. In any other human being, that exhalation would have been a frustrated sigh. His palms spread flat across the muscles of Atobe’s back, spreading the lotion around. “Why did you bring me here?” he repeated. The scent of cocoa butter and coconut oil drifted up to him, bombarding him with memories of hot sand, cool water, and swimsuit-clad bodies.

“Mmm,” Atobe’s chest rumbled contentedly. “Yes. You’re going to play me again.”

Tezuka paused for a second before returning to the bottle of sunscreen. This time he squirted a dab of the lotion onto each of Atobe’s shoulder blades. “Impossible. I’ve just recovered from our last match. I need to save my strength for Nationals.” Tezuka massaged the sunscreen into Atobe’s left shoulder blade. It was rather symbolic, Tezuka thought.

“You’re still going to play me,” Atobe informed him. The way Atobe said it, it was _fact_ , not a request.

Tezuka’s fingers pushed deep into the muscles of Atobe’s shoulder. “You don’t seem particularly up for a match at the moment,” he commented wryly.

Atobe chuckled to himself, and Tezuka could feel his whole body vibrate. “I’ll always be up for you at a moment’s notice. Promise.”

Tezuka grunted at that like he hadn’t even noticed the innuendo. He started in on Atobe’s right shoulder.

“You know,” Atobe sighed contentedly, “your hands can really be quite gentle…”

“Stop fooling around and get to the point,” Tezuka demanded. And then, after a pause, “Have you done your arms yet?”

“No. Do take care of them.”

Tezuka put some sunscreen into the palms of his hands and began gliding them up and down Atobe’s biceps. Tezuka found the motion surprisingly relaxing. Under the hot summer sun, the regular rubbing of cool lotion into Atobe’s skin was almost hypnotic.

“Your forearms,” Tezuka requested. Atobe had them folded under his head, acting as a pillow.

“Mmm, of course.” Atobe shifted so that his chin rested in his just hands, so that Tezuka could stroke up and down those forearms. Tiny, fine hairs stirred at the stimulation of Tezuka’s touch.

Tezuka let in a quick intake of breath when the clean, sharp scent of masculinity hit his nostrils. Atobe had lifted his head to give Tezuka access to his forearms, and now Tezuka’s nose was inches from Atobe’s hair, close enough that Tezuka could make out Atobe’s natural scent, even under the heady scent of sunscreen. Tezuka hadn’t even realized he’d leaned so far over Atobe. His body practically covered Atobe’s back now, carefully poised over him so that he wasn’t quite touching.

Tezuka pulled back quickly in response and turned to applying sunscreen to the back of Atobe’s neck. That seemed much safer.

“My point,” Atobe said, sounding relaxed and far too content, “is that I mean to lay claim to you.”

Tezuka’s heart missed a beat. As gently as he could, he applied the sunscreen to the delicate shell of Atobe’s ear.

“You are thorough, aren’t you?” Atobe sounded very pleased at this.

“I wouldn’t want you to burn,” was all Tezuka could think to say. “But…”

“Ah, yes,” Atobe agreed, getting back on topic. “Nationals is coming right up. No doubt, you’ll be your usual spectacular self. Simply _everyone_ will want to match you. I can already tell that Sanada from Rikkaidai is sniffing around.” There was bitter distaste in Atobe’s voice at Sanada’s name.

Tezuka finished with Atobe’s ears and breathed a sigh of relief as he sat back. Perhaps his shorts were a bit more uncomfortable than they had been, but he’d survived his close encounter with Atobe’s incredible body. Tezuka had never been more proud of his self-control.

“Aren’t you going to finish me?” Atobe complained.

For a moment, Tezuka’s mind went to a completely wrong place. “Huh?” he blinked, wide-eyed.

“My lower back,” Atobe explained. “Kabaji wasn’t done yet.”

Tezuka tensed, and his eyes traced the line of Atobe’s spine down to his very low-riding royal purple swimming trunks, and then further to the perfect curve of Atobe’s ass. “All right,” he said weakly. He wondered where all his resistance had run off to.

“Hmm, that’s it,” Atobe said contentedly when Tezuka’s hands cupped the small of his back. “Be sure to go just under the waistband, too. I’ve gotten a nasty burn line in the past when my preparation has been less than complete.”

Tezuka stared numbly at those very low trunks, realizing that his hands – ever so slightly – were going to go _underneath_. Suddenly, Tezuka’s shorts weren’t vaguely uncomfortable, but downright _chaffing_. “Okay,” he breathed.

“I just wanted to be perfectly clear as to my intentions,” Atobe said smoothly. “There are fewer opportunities for misunderstandings that way.”

Tezuka wasn’t sure what he was understanding was Atobe’s intention at all. Although, knowing Atobe, it probably was…

“You are _my_ rival,” Atobe insisted vehemently. “If anyone else comes after you, make sure you tell them that.”

Tezuka couldn’t help but find himself a bit amused that Atobe assumed Tezuka would automatically agree with him. “Don’t I get a say in this?” he challenged. And then, with a deep breath, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of Atobe’s trunks to make sure the lotion covered the line there perfectly.

“What?” Atobe teased. “You don’t want me?” He sounded as though his hook was already snared deep within Tezuka and Tezuka didn’t even know it yet.

Tezuka scowled at the back of Atobe’s head before looking down at where his hands were massaging Atobe’s lower back. Tezuka froze in sudden shock.

 _Atobe had no tan line._

Tezuka’s eyes widened, and his breathing sped up. He was pretty sure he was hyperventilating.

It wasn’t that Atobe wasn’t tan; Tezuka could see that his skin was noticeably darker than in the winter. It was just that he was tan _underneath_ his shorts, too. Tezuka took a moment to process this, and doing so effectively turned his brain right off.

“No…tan line…” he breathed in an awed, totally undignified way.

“Tan lines are tacky,” Atobe scrunched up his nose in distaste.

 _Atobe. Naked. Sunbathing._ These were the only words Tezuka knew.

“I put them on for your visit, but if you don’t mind, you can take them off.” Atobe sounded smug in his victory.

Some small part of Tezuka’s brain that hadn’t completely melted wanted to object. The rest of Tezuka stripped Atobe’s trunks off before he even knew what he was doing.

Atobe’s ass was… “Perfect,” Tezuka gasped.

“It’ll need sunscreen, too.” Atobe winked at Tezuka cheekily over his shoulder.

Tezuka had never been happier to comply. Tezuka’s hands cradled the firm globes, and Atobe pushed back into him with a moan. Apparently, Atobe had actually been being subtle before; Tezuka wouldn’t have believed that he could get more blatant.

Atobe’s legs spread, and Tezuka concluded that that was obviously an invitation for Tezuka to crawl in between them. It was clearly a better position for massaging.

“Mmm, that’s it,” Atobe sighed, half up on his knees now, rocking back into Tezuka’s groin.

Tezuka was so hard he was in agony. He wanted to, to…

“You can take _them_ off, too.” Atobe glared back at Tezuka’s shorts.

Tezuka did so in a dazed state. While he did so, Atobe turned so that he was on his side. Tezuka gulped at the sight of Atobe, equally hard and needy, lounging before him like some sinfully expensive treat. Atobe patted the lounge chair beside him in invitation. Tezuka eagerly slipped naked into Atobe’s arms.

“Touch me,” Atobe purred, wrapping his hand around Tezuka’s erection.

“Yes…” Tezuka agreed, mirroring Atobe’s actions. Atobe felt hot and alive against his palm, the skin unbearably soft. “Ah, ah…”

“You’re _mine_.” Atobe’s teeth sunk into Tezuka’s ear, and Tezuka let out a scream in response.

Everything was too fast, too hot, too _much_. Before Tezuka even knew what was happening, he was coming into Atobe’s hand, surrendering all of himself.

“That’s more like it,” Atobe smirked before his face went slack with his own pleasure.

 _Mine, mine, mine…_ Tezuka’s mind reverberated with the word. _My rival, my lover, my…_ “ _Atobe_.” Exhausted, Tezuka collapsed onto the chaise, wrapped in Atobe’s inescapable embrace.

“Mmm,” Atobe commented smugly. “If you’re going to fall asleep like that, I’ll have to put sunscreen on you, too.”

“Oh, yes,” Tezuka sighed, as Atobe leaned in and their lips finally m—

***

Tezuka woke up with a gasp and a start to the dark of night, half a world away from the sun and heat he’d just envisaged. His hand scrambled for his glasses on the bedside table, and he checked the clock once he’d put them on. Three in the morning.

It was only then that he realized that it wasn’t his orgasm that had finally woken him from his dream, but something else. Something was buzzing.

After some more scrambling on the nightstand, Tezuka found his cell phone. His cell phone that Atobe had given him and that Atobe was now calling him on. Tezuka’s hand shook as he opened it.

“Tezuka,” Atobe’s voice was like fine chocolate.

“Atobe,” Tezuka’s voice rasped and then, collecting himself, “It’s three AM.”

“Is that inconvenient?” Atobe sounded like he couldn’t imagine why Tezuka would point this out. “I do have a very busy schedule, you know. I don’t have time to worry about things like time zones. You should be honored that I fit you in at all.”

“I,” Tezuka wanted to object just on principle, but it wasn’t like he would have slept any longer, “was awake anyway.”

“Can’t wait to come home, no doubt,” Atobe said breezily. “I know it must have been _torture_ to go without my radiance for so long. Can you imagine? Some people go their whole _lives_ without meeting me. Really, what’s the point?”

Tezuka found himself smirking into the phone. Atobe was as impossible as ever, of course. “I finish with rehab tomorrow.”

“Hmm, I suppose we’ll have to schedule our rematch soon, then.”

“Atobe,” Tezuka said eagerly, and there was a huskiness in his voice that even he couldn’t hide.

“Yes?” Atobe’s voice actually _shook_ , like he was surprised and hopeful and maybe even a little bit vulnerable for once in his life.

“I’ll see you soon,” Tezuka promised.

“Oh,” Atobe breathed, and Tezuka would have given anything to see if he was blushing just then. “Good.”

“Yes,” Tezuka agreed and hung up.


End file.
